


Greyscale

by Madin456



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff and Angst, M/M, medic!leorio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 09:59:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13187721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madin456/pseuds/Madin456
Summary: The colours come because you find love, not because they make you fall in love.





	Greyscale

**Author's Note:**

  * For [greedlings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/greedlings/gifts).



> Secret Santa gift for Josie! Happy holidays. :)

There’s something special about a person’s eyes that captivates Leorio—and not just in the scientific sense where light rays enter the cornea, diverge at the lens, and an image registers in the brain. It’s the fact that people are always looking, always _searching_ , despite this world being so dull and grey. How people still manage to hold onto hope even when the statistics are against them.

And they’re not at fault, not really, because Leorio often catches himself doing the same. He allows curiosity to take over him, questioning every person he passes by on the streets: _Is it them? Could this person be my soulmate?_

The answer, he knows, is almost always a _no_. Because the world is kind and cruel at the same time—his soulmate will only reveal themselves to him when the time is right, and before that time comes, he will continue to be blind.

So, for now, he tries to enjoy his days in the colourless.

.

As a man nearing his thirties, Leorio Paladiknight has found himself a stable job at a small clinic in the city. He spends his days helping out other citizens in the best way he knows how and while he is frequently put in high-stress situations, the friendly atmosphere between the physicians and patients makes it more than worth it.

His client today is a friend and it’s starting to become concerning just how often Leorio sees him here at work.

“Hold _still_ , Gon,” he says as the younger boy squirms in his seat, wincing as Leorio carefully applies disinfectant to the cut on his leg. “You really have to be more careful next time, got it?”

“I will!” Gon agrees enthusiastically and Leorio only sighs because he wouldn’t be surprised to see him back at the clinic next week. Recklessness is in Gon’s blood.

Off to the side of the room, Kurapika watches the scene play out in silent amusement. Beside him, Killua’s eyes are flickering all over, from the door to the posters on the wall to the cabinets full of medical equipment. He seems to be micro-analyzing everything which strikes the doctor as odd considering there’s nothing around them that he hasn’t seen many times before. Then again, Killua has always been a weird kid.

Bringing his focus back to Gon, Leorio asks, “How did you get this injury, anyway?”

The grin he receives is so wide that it seems to split open the brown-haired boy’s face as he physically bounces in excitement. “We went to the park to try out the new skateboard Killua got recently and I was going down this path when the world just— _exploded_ with colour.” His arms are spread out, mimicking a hose spraying water. “It’s like, suddenly, everything was complete and I could finally see the other half the world that was missing. I guess it shocked me so much that I lost control of the skateboard and fell off.”

It’s not the fact that Gon has found love and Leorio hasn’t that weaves a sting of jealousy in his heart; it’s the uncertainty that he might never get to experience the full effect of colours that he truly envies. The tone Gon uses to describe the whole situation almost makes the doctor want to believe in magic.

“So, you can see more than just blue now?” He has to know.

Gon nods vigorously.

“And you can see more than just green?” He turns to Killua, still partially in disbelief.

The white-haired boy holds a secretive smile. “Yeah.”

And thinking back to just a few minutes ago when Killua had been looking around the room as if seeing it all for the first time, Leorio supposes that this _is_ all new to him. Because that’s how it starts, or so Leorio’s been told. The first colour you see is the colour that’s most closely associated with your soulmate. Then, for the next few days, weeks, months, years, the rest of the world is still grey until everything else fills in.

“Wow,” he breathes out, and wonders what he would give up just to experience all that for himself.

When he finishes tending to Gon’s wound, he leads his friends out to the hallway and walks them to the entrance of the clinic, mind still spinning with all this new information. Just as they’re about to leave, Killua turns around and shouts, “Hey, old man, when will you finally find your soulmate? At this rate, by the time you actually find them, you really will be an old man!”

Leorio gestures to shoo him out of the clinic and he really wouldn’t be Killua if he didn’t piss off Leorio at least once every day. “Yeah, yeah, just get out of here, you brat!”

As he turns around to fill out some forms, Kurapika is a relaxing and welcoming presence at his side. Unlike the younger boys, Leorio has always looked forward to the blond’s visits, however rare they are.

“It’s truly amazing, isn’t it?” Kurapika laments thoughtfully.

Leorio hums in agreement. Gon and Killua had met as kids, then grew to become best friends, and now soulmates. They’ve told them of the time they had gone fishing at a lake, Gon leaning back to cast out the bait into the water and almost falling in because the entire body of water before him had lit up in a dazzling shade of blue. When he turned around, he saw that Killua’s eyes were the same colour.

At the same moment, Gon’s pants had turned _obnoxiously green_ , as the white-haired boy had expressed it. The grass beneath their feet was a similar hue and it was then that Killua began to question Gon’s fashion sense. In a way, the vibrancy of the colour matched Gon’s outgoing personality perfectly.

Leorio glances over at his friend and wishes he could see what colours make up Kurapika, where the lighter shades of his skin fall and the where the blend of light paints over his clothing and how much more beautiful he’d look outside of the greyscale.

“Do you think you’ll ever meet your soulmate?” he asks, and watches as Kurapika furrows his eyebrows in deep thought.

“I’d hope so,” the blond says eventually, a gentle smile on his face when he looks up at Leorio. “I think we’re all subconsciously searching, anyway.”

And the doctor nods, because it’s true. He continues to think about it that night, long after Kurapika has left and the clinic closes for the day, and discretely wonders if he would still want to find his soulmate if it meant that he wouldn’t be with Kurapika.

.

What Leorio knows: over the past few years since meeting Kurapika, he’s developed something akin to a crush on the Kurta. He’s denied it to himself for a long time and it’s _pathetic_ because it’s so unlikely that they’re soulmates, but it’s not just something that he can _control_. Sometimes, he thinks he’d even be okay with never seeing colours at all if it means he could have a happy ending with Kurapika.

What Leorio wishes people told him: the colours come because you _find_ love, not because they _make_ you fall in love.

.

Kurapika’s house is effortlessly clean. It never fails to impress Leorio when he stops by for a visit and sees that every single item has its place in the rooms. Unlike his own home, where stray pieces of clothing somehow end up all over chairs and couches and loose papers reside on the floor more often than in folders or on a shelf, Kurapika actually maintains a tidy household.

Entering through the doorway, Leorio slips off his shoes and mutters without really thinking, “I should hire you to clean my room.”

The other boy raises an eyebrow at this, the corners of his mouth lifting upward. “Oh? My services are expensive, you know. I doubt you’d be able to afford it.”

“What a cruel friend.” Leorio feigns hurt.

Letting out a quiet laugh, Kurapika gestures at him to take a seat in the living room. “Would you like a drink? Although I only have tea to offer.”

“Sure, tea is fine.”

As the blond walks over to the kitchen, Leorio makes himself comfortable on the couch. It’s been far too long since he’s last visited, truthfully. Between his lengthy shifts at the clinic and Kurapika’s own busy schedule, the two of them rarely have a day off at the same time to hang out. He’s missed this—this calm and relaxing atmosphere that seems to settle around them when it’s just the two of them alone.

The sound of an alarmed shriek followed by the shattering of glass has Leorio jerking his head up in time to see Kurapika jump a foot back from where he had been standing. His hands are clasped around his mouth, body backed up against the wall in fear.

Immediately, adrenaline kicking in, Leorio runs over and sees the cup Kurapika had been holding earlier broken on the floor. Turning to the blond who is visibly shaking, he asks, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Kurapika only manages to raise an arm and point at the counter in front of him, stammering out incoherencies, eyes wide. Following his line of sight, Leorio glances over and sees a small spider crawling on the marble surface. It all makes sense, then, when he remembers Kurapika telling him about spiders triggering a response in him; something about his parents and the loss of his childhood friend and how he’s never really been able to get over it completely.

Working quickly, Leorio disposes of the spider and returns to the blond’s side. He watches, helpless, as Kurapika sinks down to the cold tiled floor and curls up within himself, gasping softly every now and then.

 _“Breathe,”_ Leorio instructs, voice quiet but firm. “It’s okay, just breathe.”

He holds Kurapika in his arms, trying to provide any amount of reassurance he can as the younger boy shakes with a force Leorio’s never seen before, a state of vulnerability that’s completely foreign to him.

“I-I’m sorry,” Kurapika says finally, as if choking the words out forcefully, breathing still uneven. The doctor can tell that he’s trying his hardest to compose himself again.

And Leorio shakes his head, replying with the one thing he believes most in his heart. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

It’s when the tears start flowing and Kurapika feels truly and utterly _broken_ that he asks, “How do you think my soulmate would react if he saw me like this, freaking out over a tiny insect?” The question causes a bitter laugh to escape his lips, face still hidden in his arms as if he’s too embarrassed to raise his head. “How can anyone love me, Leorio?”

And Leorio holds him tighter, rubbing soothing circles on the younger boy’s back, wishing that he could take away emotional pain like how he stitches up physical injuries at the clinic. He wants to say _, even if they don’t love you, I will_ ; wants to say, _I don’t need the colours to see that you’re amazing_ ; wants to say, _I’ll always be here for you—if you’ll let me._

He wants to say so many things but swallows the words back down because that’s not how their world works and Kurapika is not his to love.

Instead, Leorio leans forward to rest his lips on top of the younger boy’s hair. Closes his eyes and murmurs, “Your soulmate is a fool if they don’t realize how lucky they are.”

.

His hand is steady, experienced, as he uses a pair of tweezers to delicately remove the stinger from skin before pressing an ice pack to the swollen area. “There you go,” Leorio tells his client. “Bee stings can be a pain but you don’t seem to have an allergic reaction, so it shouldn’t take long to heal.”

Ponzu, a young girl who happens to wear a pink shirt and a large hat, smiles at him appreciatively. “Thanks for your help. I’m also sorry for getting a little bit of red on you,” she says, pointing at the smudge of blood staining the bottom of Leorio’s shirt, most likely caused by having brushed against her arm when the stinger was being removed. He hadn’t even noticed it until she brought it to his attention, and hadn’t noticed her wording until he looks down, expecting to see grey, and instead sees—

“Oh,” she exclaims, noticing the expression on his face and misunderstanding, “what I meant is that I accidently smeared some blood on your shirt. You’re still colourblind, aren’t you?”

 _Is he?_ Leorio stares at the spot on his clothes, mystified. _Is he still colourblind, or is this…?_

 _Red,_ the logical part of his mind supplies him. _Blood is red._

“Doctor?”

At the sound of Ponzu’s voice, he snaps out if it and quickly composes himself. “Right, sorry. Don’t worry about the stain, it’s nothing that can’t be washed out.” He tries to give his patient a smile through the pounding in his head as he goes to one of the drawers to take out a small bottle. “These painkillers will help with the aching and the swelling should fade away within a week.”

“Thank you.” She accepts the medicine gratefully. Her gaze stays on him for a few moments longer as if she has something else to say, but she simply bows politely before exiting the room.

Now alone, Leorio takes the time to confirm his suspicions. He looks around the room and sees certain objects pop out at him: the (not-grey) pen he’s used so often that lies on the desk, the (not-grey) first aid kit on a shelf in the corner, one of the (not-grey) chairs off to the side. They’re not grey and he _sees_ , really sees them for the first time, and thinks, _holy shit_.

His next thought is: _I have to tell Kurapika._

Before Leorio even realizes what he’s doing, he’s already making his way out the door, well aware that he’s still in the middle of his shift and not caring in the slightest. As he runs the three blocks to Kurapika’s house, it’s like he’s a newborn again experiencing everything for the first time. Different parts of the world light up before him, from the leaves that are just beginning to change colour to a few of the cars passing by on the street, all delightfully, magnificently, undeniably _red._

He’s out of breath when he finally rings Kurapika’s doorbell and still trying to get oxygen into his system when Kurapika opens the door.

“Leorio?” the younger boy asks, visibly surprised. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at work?”

Through his wheezing, he’s somehow able to make out a few sentences. “I just—I was working with a patient and she had some blood on her arm and, like, I almost messed up the treatment procedure because I could _see_ it. I could see the colour. _Red._ ”

Kurapika only manages to blink as Leorio bounces on his feet, words coming out in a stream of excitement.

“It’s—it’s so _vibrant_ and bright and dark at the same time and I can’t even describe it, Kurapika, but I had to come and tell you. It’s just _beautiful_.” He only stops to catch his breath and freezes when he notices— “It’s… the same colour as your eyes.”

There’s a moment of stillness before the blond finally clears his throat and shifts around almost nervously, taking the pause in Leorio’s words to speak up. “Actually, just now, I think I also caught a glimpse of… colour.”

It feels like an eternity that they stand at the doorway unmoving, shocked into silence and staring at each other because this—this _can’t_ be a coincidence. Leorio feels it deep inside him, a confirmation in his very soul that his speculations are correct, even if it all seems too good to believe.

“No way,” he whispers. “It’s _you._ ” He takes a step back as if re-evaluating the whole situation. “This whole time, it’s been _you_.”

Kurapika smiles tentatively, like he gets it but doesn’t entirely understand. “I suppose this means that we’re… soulmates?”

Everything is still reeling in his head, but the word _soulmates_ resonates with Leorio now in a way that it never did before. He nods slowly in reply, not able to fully take it in yet, but he finds himself moving closer to the younger boy; closer and closer until he brings their lips together and somehow, it’s like the world burst into colour in that moment despite the monochrome of greys still surrounding him.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he says when they break apart.

There’s a light blush of red—red that he can actually _see_ now, red that is faint and just barely there but still definitely noticeable—on Kurapika’s cheeks as he looks up at him almost shyly. “Me too.”

They’re quiet for a few minutes, letting their brain catch up with their hearts. “So, what colour did you see?”

“Brown.”

Leorio wrinkles his nose. “Brown? The colour I’m associated with is brown?” He’s heard that brown is dark and murky, like the dirtied water of swamps and the mud that gets stuck to the bottom of boots, none of which seem particularly appealing. Killua had once mentioned that it was also the colour of shit.

Kurapika laughs gently at his reaction. “It’s a strong and solid colour, a reliable foundation like the bark on trees. You’ll see when it comes. I think it suits you perfectly.”

And the older man leans in for a kiss again because he thinks he’s more than okay with being brown if it means getting to be with Kurapika.

.

(“Shouldn’t you be getting back to work though?”

“Ah! Fuck, you’re right,” Leorio mutters, scrambling to straighten his hair and make himself presentable. He half-runs, half-trips down the path for a few steps before stopping and turning around to blow Kurapika a kiss as dramatically as possible.

The Kurta only shakes his head despite the smile lingering on his lips.)

.

Leorio has always been fascinated by a person’s eyes. They’re the first point of contact that light rays hit to let you observe the world. They’re what allows him to see _red_ , to see the rest of the colours when they eventually come in time.

Kurapika tells him that his eyes are warm and inviting and that they display the full effect of just how generous he is. Brown like hot chocolate and smooth caramel and the determination that paints over him when he’s focused on work at the clinic.

Gon describes Killua’s eyes as if they contain oceans in their little round orbs, washed over in a brilliant shade of blue. When he’s angry, the white-haired boy can throw fiery tides at you with just one look. In the intimate spaces shared with only Gon, they are gentle and calm, as if stroking seashells on the shore.

When Leorio himself looks at Kurapika’s eyes, he is overwhelmed by kindness. He can _feel_ the blond’s thoughtful nature touching everything that he lands his gaze on, a true and genuine love for the things he cares about, even in the greyscale. There is compassion hidden behind each glance and unconditional support for those he admires.

Leorio has always been fascinated by a person’s eyes, but he thinks that the way Kurapika’s glow a bright scarlet colour is the best by far.


End file.
